Nikita's eyes were locked on Michael as he rapelled down the side of the warehouse. He had been on the rooftop, planting charges, now he was making his way back down. From the corner of her eye, Nikita spotted a shooter. Michael's back was to him, and Nikita couldn't shout a warning for that would signal the other guards. She lifted her gun and pulled the trigger, but nothing happened...it was jammed. Nikita broke out into a cold sweat as she realized that Michael was about to die. She heard a gunshot and saw his body jerk. Nikita bit back a cry as she heard a second gunshot and the shooter fell from his perch.

"Return to base!" Michael ordered his team, via comlink.

"He's alive," Nikita whispered, as she watched him land on the ground and remove the hook from his harness, freeing him from the line. Another operative had joined him, and Nikita wondered if it was the guy who had killed the shooter. She would have to thank him later. For now, she headed back to the van, as ordered.

Once inside the van, Nikita paced back and forth as she watched the other operatives pour in. Then she heard Michael's voice again.

"Birkhoff, set off the charges," Michael directed.

"Will do," Birkhoff replied, as he hit a key on his computer. A moment later they all heard the *boom*.

Nikita closed her eyes, but they flew open a moment later, as she heard Michael's voice from behind her.

"Go," he instructed the driver of the van. Michael felt Nikita's eyes upon him and his lips curved into a slight smile before he turned to the operative that had entered the van behind him. "Thank you," Michael offered, knowing that the operative had saved his life.

"You're welcome," said a whiskey-smooth voice, as the hood came off.

Nikita found herself staring at an exotically beautiful woman. She had oriental features and waistlength, jet-black hair. Her dark eyes were locked on Michael's face.

"I'm Rayne," said the woman, introducing herself. "And you're the infamous....Michael...I've heard so much about." Rayne let her eyes roam over him, admiring the way his black, field outfit clung to Michael. Revealing long, muscled legs, tight buttocks, broad shoulders, well-developed chest and powerful arms. One of which was bleeding. "Let me take a look at you," Rayne offered, her hands lifting to check the damage the bullet had made. It had ripped through the muscle of Michael's left bicep.

To Nikita's amazement, Michael let Rayne tear open the sleeve of his shirt. Of course, he didn't even flinch. To Michael a bullet in the arm was akin to a mosquito bite for most people, for all the discomfort it afforded him.

Rayne was aware of the eyes of the beautiful blond upon her and Michael. She was amused by it, for she felt the heat of jealousy. Rayne couldn't blame the other woman. Michael was gorgeous and sexy and she found herself wanting to kiss his sensual lips, even as she was wiping blood off his arm. Michael was well known throughout Section operatives, and Rayne was pleased to see that he surpassed his reputation. An added bonus was his youth and his beauty. She hadn't been expecting that. But perhaps she should have. Rayne had been with Section for ten years, she knew that operatives were used for their *looks* as well as their skills. Michael would be an effective weapon in both departments.

"I'll be fine," MIchael said softly, as he pulled away from Rayne's touch. She had wiped off the blood so that he could see the damage. Michael considered it to be minimal. He turned to Birkhoff. "Do we have closure?" he asked.

The computer genius studied his monitor for a moment, then nodded. "We do."

Michael nodded. "Good." Once again he felt eyes upon him and this time he discovered both Nikita, and Rayne, watching him.

Rayne was about to follow, when Nikita grabbed her arm. Rayne turned to the blond woman, smiling. "Yes?" she asked, taking no offense.

Nikita had to force herself not to shout. Why she felt so furious, she couldn't comprehend. Yet anger washed over her like waves crashing on a beach. "So....what are you doing here?" she asked, managing to keep her voice down to a low hiss.

"I've been reassigned to here," Rayne replied. She knew what Nikita's problem was. Had recongnized it from the very start. Nikita had it bad, for Michael. Rayne had watched him closely and suspected that Michael had feelings for Nikita as well, but neither party would act upon them. Which was fine by Rayne. She wanted Michael for herself. Nothing deep, emotional or bonding. Just some hot sex with a gorgeous guy. Both she and Michael would benefit from the relationship, especially since they could understand each other from an operative level. Rayne sensed that Nikita was not desensitized to the world about her. Michael was...so was Rayne. It was the only way to survive the Section.

"Reassigned from where?" Nikita demanded, not caring how she sounded. It was none of her business, but she wanted to know. Suspicion made her throw caution to the wind. Had Rayne been sent as a test? And who was being tested? Her...or Michael? Or the both of them? Nikita wanted to scream with frustration.....at herself as well as at Section. Why did she care if Rayne liked Michael and he liked her? There was nothing between herself and Michael anyway...except for lies and manipulations. But the fact remained that Nikita did care. So she waited for an answer.

Rayne smiled. "I was in was in Europe," she announced, pushing past Nikita to head down the corridor. She wanted to debrief quickly, so that she could check on Michael.

Nikita followed her. "How long were you there?" she asked.

"Long enough," Rayne replied. She was becoming irritated now but she didn't let it show. "Excuse me, Nikita," she drawled. "I have things to do. Ciao." With a wave of her fingers, Rayne glided down the corridor.

"Bitch.." Nikita hissed. Then she turned the other way and stomped off. But she was more angry with herself than with the other woman. For Nikita couldn't deny what she was feeling. It was jealousy, plain and simple, and she didn't like it.

Michael smiled. "It's fine. Thank you. Did you want something?" he inquired, fully aware of the heat of her gaze.

"Just you," Rayne announced, bluntly. She was disappointed that Michael's only reaction was to blink. "For the record, I fully intend to seduce you into my bed," she declared.

"Why?" Michael countered, and he was genuinely curious.

Rayne laughed softly. "To put it simply, and honestly, because you're the most beautiful, sexy and sensous man that I have ever met, and I'm very attracted to you. Actually...I'm *hot* for you, is more like it."

Michael leaned back in his chair and folded his hands in his lap. "I might not live up to your expectations," he told her, softly.

"I think you'll surpass them," Rayne shot back. It was a relief to meet a man like Michael. He wasn't threatened by strong women. In fact, Rayne guessed that he was attracted to them. She could see admiration for her shining in his silver-green gaze. But she could also sense that Michael wasn't someone who gave in to his desires easily, so seducing him would be a challenge. Rayne loved a challenge.

"I have work to do," Michael said gently, dismissing her.

Rayne stood up, but she wasn't finished yet. "I have a favor to ask," she said.

Michael nodded. "Ask."

"I'd appreciate it if I could work out with you. Get up to speed on some of my martial arts moves." Rayne offered a sensual smile. "Will you meet me in the morning?"

"We have trainers," Michael countered, his eyes glittering. He couldn't deny his attraction to Rayne, but he wouldn't let her see it. It was a purely physical attraction, anyway. Her golden-skinned, exotic beauty reminded him of Simone. "You can ask one of them for help," he said firmly.

Rayne laughed, a husky sound deep in her throat, as she leaned over the desk, eyes locked with Michael's. "What's the matter, are you afraid?" she challenged.

Michael glanced away from the heat of her gaze. "I'll see you at five am," he told her, focusing his attention back on his report. He didn't want to consider why he had accepted her challenge. Or why he was looking forward to it.

"See you then," Rayne replied, a satisfied smile curving her lips. She headed for the door, but stopped to add, "Don't worry about your arm, Michael. I'll be gentle." And with that, Rayne glided out of the room.

Heaving a sigh, Michael fixed his typing mistake, then shut down his computer. His head was filled with images of Simone, Rayne and Nikita and he knew he wouldn't be able to concentrate. So he headed out. Michael needed to take a long walk to cool his thoughts, and his libido.

Rayne could be heard to say. "Michael is fluid grace in motion, and he strikes with the speed and accuracy of a cobra. And if that wasn't impressive enough, have you ever seen the man in a tank top and spandex shorts? His skin glistening with sweat and muscles rippling?" A long sigh followed.

Sandy laughed softly. "I've never seen Michael in anything but his basic black suit, but I looooove the way those pants fit him. And when he wears just a turtle neck....girlfriend....say AMEN. The man has the most awesome butt!"

Nikita grimaced as she listened to the two women talking. It annoyed her that Rayne had seen him in exercise clothes.

Rayne wasn't finished drooling. "I love his hair too. It's so curly once it gets damp, I just want to bury my fingers in it up to my elbows. And I will, once I get him in my bed. He'll be all sweaty then too, only from a much different form of exercise. And I'll be happy to lather him up in the shower, dry him off, take him back to bed and lick him from head to toe."

"Ugh..." Nikita muttered, but not from disgust. It was from her reaction to the image that flashed in her mind at Rayne's words. It wasn't hard to image Michael in her own bed, wet from the shower, his hair hanging about his gorgeous face in damp curls. "Stop it!" Nikita hissed at herself. Then she stomped off down the corridor, only to find herself at the door to Michael's office. He was at his computer, as always.

"What is it, Nikita?" Michael asked, not glancing up from his monitor as she entered the room.

She decided to be blunt. "Just so you know, Michael. Rayne has the hots for you." The moment the words were out, Nikita wished she could retrieve them, but it was too late.

Michael stopped typing, his eyes lifting to Nikita's face. She was flushed beet-red, and he nearly smiled. But Michael schooled his features into their usual *blank* expression and leaned back in his chair. "I know," he said soflty, and with a purpose.

"Silly me!" Nikita spat, not realizing that Michael had said what he had, in part, to make her angry enough to forget her embarrassment. Now she glared at him for his conceit. A trait she hadn't realized he possesed, till now. Michael had a certain arrogance, but she hadn't thought him to be vain. "Of course you KNOW," Nikita drawled, rolling her eyes. "Shoot, pretty much every woman in Section has the hots for you, Michael. I've even wondered about Madeline." The latter remark was true, yet Nikita hadn't meant to blurt that out either. Too late. She sighed. Her foot was way too big to be stuck in her mouth permanently.

"Don't go there, Nikita," Michael warned, his eyes glittering. Then he offered a slight smile as he explained. "I know about Rayne, because she told me."

Nikita hadn't been expecting that, so she responded with a sheepish grin. "Oh." She shrugged, then asked, "So...do you ...like her?" It was none of her business, and Nikita knew it. But she had to ask.

Michael glanced out the window for a moment, then his eyes returned to lock with Nikita's. "Rayne is very attractive," he allowed, knowing perfectly well that he hadn't answered Nikita's question. Nor did he intend to.

"And?" Nikita prompted, in spite of herself.

"And I'm late for a briefing," Michael countered, reaching out to shut off his computer, then rising to his feet and buttoning his jacket.

Nikita followed him out of his office. "Do you need me?" she inquired, hopefully.

Michael shook his head. "Private briefing," he told her. Then he glided off down the corridor.

"Of course," Nikita drawled, watching him go. Rayne was right about one thing. Michael moved with fluid grace. Grimacing, Nikita headed in the opposite direction. She intended to have a little talk with the dark-haired operative.

"Let's talk!" Nikita spat. "Privately."

"I'm rather busy," Rayne countered, blowing Nikita off. Not that she expected to get away with it, and she didn't.

Nikita leaned over the PC, getting in Rayne's face. "You can talk with me in private, or I can create a scene. And I guarentee you I'll embarass you more than I do me." Nikita smirked, half hoping she would get the chance to do so.

But Rayne figured she would have more fun in private, so she stood up then gestured for Nikita to lead the way. "What's this about?" she asked, as they entered the conference room.

"Michael," Nikita answered, seeing no reason to lie.

"What about him?" Rayne queried, as she propped one hip on the corner of the table. She then tossed her head so that her waist length hair fell behind her shoulders.

Nikita glared at the other woman then decided to be blunt. "Stay away from him."

Rayne was surprised by the emotion betrayed by Nikita's...demand, but she didn't let it show. She simply smiled. "Why?" she countered. "Have you got dibs on him? I didn't see your name tattoed on his forehead. Or...anywhere else on his gorgeous body." Rayne let her words insinuate a double meaning.

"Michael and I are...partners," Nikita shot back. She caught the double meaning, and didn't let on that she knew Rayne hadn't slept with him yet, thanks to having heard her conversation with Sandy earlier.

"Just...partners?" Rayne drawled. "All work and no play?" She sighed. "Too bad...for you. If that's the case, what do you care what he does...or who he's with...outside of Section?"

Nikita's eyes shot crystal-blue sparks at the other woman. "I don't care, not on a personal level," she lied. And not very well.

Rayne quirked an eyebrow. "Then why are we having this conversation?" she queried. Nikita wasn't proving to be much of a challenge. Her attraction to Michael was obvious, but Rayne knew that she was a better choice for the enigmatic man in black. They had much more in common. Nikita was not in his league.

"We're not," Nikita decided, turning to stomp out of the room. But she found her way blocked by the other woman. "What?" she demanded.

"I just want to set the record straight," Rayne replied, a smile curving her lips. "I like Michael...alot. I want him in my bed, and I intend to get him there...soon."

Nikita folded her arms over her chest and glared. "And I'm supposed to care?" she shot back. No way in hell would she let Rayne see how her boasts were affecting her. Nikita's main concern was that she would succeed. What made her mad was that she cared. Damn Michael anyway. Turning on her heel, Nikita stomped out of the conference room, spurred on by the echo of Rayne's laughter, mocking her.

Nikita sighed. "What is it that makes Michael so......interesting?" she questioned. It wasn't what she meant, but Nikita couldn't put it in any other term, not without embarrassing herself even further.

"Michael is very attractive...to women," Madeline offered, knowing what it was that Nikita was trying NOT to say. She was feeling generous so she broached the subject.

"Why is that, do you suppose?" Nikita countered. She was relieved that Madeline was going to make this easy on her. "I mean, besides the obvious," Nikita explained. "That he has the face of an angel, the body of a greek god, mesmerizing eyes, lashes to die for. Sensual lips," As she continued her catalogue of Michael's physical attributes, Nikita closed her eyes and visualized him. "So he has hair that you want to bury your fingers in up to your elbows and a the sensual grace of a cat. Nice butt too. Real nice."

Madeline bit back a grin and added her own two cents. "You forgot about his accent." It was one of her favorite things.

Nikita sighed. "Yeah....that too." She opened her eyes and shrugged. "But...it's all so shallow. Or should be."

"Michael also has strength of character. An unshakable sense of loyalty." Madeline watched Nikita fidget in her chair. "Michael is someone who you can trust your life with. And this might sound a bit twisted to you, but Michael is someone you can depend on. That's very appealing."

"Kind of a knight in...tarnished...armor," Nikita drawled. But she found herself agreeing with Madeline. She didn't trust Michael with her heart, but with her life....she felt safe.

Rising from her chair, Madeline moved to the front of her desk. She locked eyes with Nikita. "The answers you seek are within yourself," she said softly. "You just have to be willing to look for them."

Nikita decided she didn't want to go there, not tonight. So she searched for a diversion. Since she was feeling bold and daring, she asked, "So tell me, Madeline. Have you and Michael...ever....you know?"

"You know I won't answer that, Nikita," Madeline countered, but she wasn't at all offended. Her answer, had she been willing to give one, would have surprised the younger woman. "Goodnight," Madeline said softly, returning to her chair. She had reports to review.

"Goodnight," Nikita echoed. She pushed herself out of the chair and strolled out of the room. It was going to be a long night.

It was a simple enough mission. Blackmore was there to hand Michael, in the guise of ambassador Yves Juno of France, a micro chip which contained a ledger. Section wanted the ledger. Once Michael had the chip, they would collect Blackmore and return to Section. Simple enough. Nikita sighed and looked at her watch. Twenty minutes till midnight. That's when Blackmore was supposed to show. Exactly at Midnight. A waiter passed by with a tray of champagne and Nikita snagged a glass. She needed something to energizer. She couldn't be more bored if she tried.

Rayne was enjoying being so close to Michael. He looked gorgeous in his tux, and he smelled wonderful. It as irritating, however, how he stayed in Operative mode, despite her soft caresses and moist kisses. Rayne was overplaying her role as his loving wife, but Michael seemed oblivious to her. Nikita, however, was not. Rayne smiled to herself. It was time to have some fun, and to get Michael to notice her. Music was playing and Rayne led Michael onto the dance floor. It was a slow song, and she melded her body to his. As they moved, Michael guiding them in a slow circle, his body swaying with sensual grace, Rayne noticed Nikita watching them, so she took the oppurtunity to tangle her fingers in Michael's hair, then press kisses to his neck, and to nibble on his earlobe. She felt his muscles tense, even as she felt Nikita's stare burn into her. Rayne was pleased.

Nikita was furious. She knew what Rayne was doing. The other woman was trying to seduce Michael, right in front of everyone, and it appeared to be working. When they turned so that Nikita could see Michael's face, his eyes were closed. No doubt he was enjoying himself. Nikita decided that two could play at this game, so she strolled out onto the dance floor and tapped Rayne on the shoulder. Unmindful of the people around her, she asked to cut in. After all, it was the nineties. Equal rights...women's lib and all that.

"Be my guest," Rayne drawled, more than willing to let Nikita give it her best shot. She already knew that she had affected Michael, so let Nikita give it a go. She did, however, pause long enough to kiss Michael, lingeringly. Then she glided over to the side of the room, to watch.

Michael was aware of the little contest that was going on between the two women. In a sense it was flattering, but it had no place on this mission. "Behave yourself, Nikita," he hissed in the beautiful blond's ear. And she was exquisite, in a pale pink, halter dress.

Nikita smiled at him, an sweet curving of her full lips. "Whatever do you mean, Michael?" she countered, innocently, her pale eyes glittering. Then she pressed herself against him, and she could feel that he was aroused, but not fully. Not yet. Nikita unbuttoned his jacket and slid her arms around his trim waist. Her fingertips glided up and down the muscles of his back, then she began to tug on his shirt, drawing it out of the waistband of his trousers.

"What are you doing?" Michael breathed in her ear. He was trying to keep his eyes tracking the room for Blackmore, but Nikita was distracting him. He suddenly found his breath catching in his throat as her cool hands slid inside his trousers, and briefs, to cup the hard muscle of his buttocks.

"Mmmmm..." Nikita murmmured, as her fingers kneaded Michael's warm skin. He had the most gorgeous butt and she was so glad it wasn't hairy. Gray's had been and Nikita hated that.

Michael almost forgot to move. "Nikita..." he hissed. "What are you doing?"

She giggled in his ear. "I'm...dancing," Nikita replied, even as her teeth nibbled at his earlobe. He had cute ears too. Gray's had been funny looking. Nikita almost grimaced at the track of her thoughts. She had to stop making comparisons.

"Remove your hands," Michael ordered. He was grateful that he was wearing a jacket, but that didn't mean that people wouldn't notice the position of Nikita's hands.

"Why?" Nikita countered, her lips now pressed to Michael's ear. She used the tip of her tongue to lick the curve of his ear and felt him tremble. That wasn't the only reaction he was having and Nikita wanted to crow with triumph, only her smile faded when Michael grabbed her wrists, removed her hands from his butt, then pushed her away.

He glared at her. "Blackmore is here! Focus!" With that he left Nikita in the middle of the dance floor and returned to Rayne's side.

Nikita wasn't angry, but held it in check. Michael was doing what he had to do. The mission came first. Nikita knew that Rayne was favored by Operations, so she was determined not to mess things up. The other woman already had too many points in her favor. For tonight, Nikita would consider them tied. But she had only begun to fight.

Madeline had been keeping an eye on things, as had Operations. He was becoming concerned and he called Madeline on it. "Don't you think we should stop this little *contest* that Nikita and Rayne have going?"

"Not really," Madeline replied, a smile on her face. "Let them, work it out between them."

"What about Michael?" Operations inquired, frowning. He didn't want Michael distracted from his work.

Madeline knew what Ops was thinking. "Michael is handling it very well. It's good for him. He might even...enjoy it. He deserves it."

Operations sighed. "I want it wrapped up soon," he declared. "By the end of the week."

"I think that's doable," Madeline allowed. She had a plan which she intended to put into effect by the end of the day. Michael would be pushed into making a choice, of that she was certain. She was also certain of who he would choose. But that wouldn't take away her enjoyment. Smiling at Operations, Madeline sauntered out of his office.

Nikita glided into Madeline's office but stopped dead in her tracks when she saw Rayne and Michael. Rayne was sitting on the couch, Michael was pacing beside Madeline's desk. Madeline was behind the desk, and she waved Nikita forward. "What's going on?" Nikita inquired.

Madeline stood up to confront them all. "I've asked you here to participate in a form of experiment," she said, a smile curving her lips.

"What kind of experiment?" Michael asked, his eyes narrowing with suspicion. He recognized the gleam in Madeline's eyes and it worried him.

"Call it scenario training," Madeline replied. She held her hand to reveal a box containing trackers. Tiny dots the size of the head of a pencil eraser. She handed one to Rayne, then to Nikita. Then she explained what she wanted them to do with them. "Put the tracker in your mouth and find a way to place on Michael's skin, without being obvious. You may find yourself in this situation as some point, with having to place a tracker on a mark. You'll need to distract him so he won't feel what you're doing, and so he won't find it....quickly."

It didn't take Nikita long to realize what Madeline was doing and she was all for it. It would be fun. She looked over at Rayne who was smile, and gestured to Michael. "You first," Nikita invited, feeling generous.

Michael locked eyes with Madeline as Rayne stepped over to him. He saw the glimmer of amusement in her dark eyes and he vowed to get revenge. Someway...somehow. But all thoughts of revenge disappeared as Rayne's hands cupped his face. She kissed him, even as her fingers slid into his hair. Michael did what he was expected to do, he responded by kissing her back. When his hands lifted to Rayne's waist he could feel the heat of Nikita's gaze upon him. It, more than anything, made him tremble.

Rayne let her hand glide down to Michael's shirt where she popped open the buttons, even as her lips pressed kisses to his neck. She left the tracker deposited behind his ear, but that didn't stop her from nibbling her way down Michael's exposed chest. She stopped when she felt his hand in her hair. When she lifted her head, he smiled at her.

"I felt you place the tracker," he said quietly, even as he removed it from behind his ear.

Nikita swallowed back a giggle. So much for Rayne providing a distraction. It was her turn now. Deliberately, Nikita placed the tracker on her tongue then moved towards Michael. She felt, rather than saw, Rayne's glare, but the other woman stepped out of the way. First thing Nikita did was lock eyes with Michael. She loved the luminous beauty of his silver-green gaze. She could drown in his eyes. But now she felt the heat that burned in them and it warmed her. Swallowing hard, Nikita let her fingertips dance over Michael's chest. He was beautiful. His skin was smooth, the muscle beneath it hard and warm. Nikita bit her lip then bent her head to press a kiss to the hollow of his throat, she then let her tongue trail a wet path to his ear. A quick nibble on his lobe and she moved to puff her breath lightly over the wetspots. Her hands were still on Michael's chest and she could feel him quiver.

Michael lifted his hands and let them rest on the small of Nikita's back as she pressed against him, her lips now moving back to his ear, then she was combing her fingers through his hair and pulling his head to the side so she could nibble the nape of his neck. He caught his breath when her kissed trailed down his chest to his abdomen as she fell to one knee. Michael was near the wall and he let Nikita push him back against it. He lifted one hand to tuck a stray lock of hair behind his ear, then his hand covered his mouth and he shuddered as one of Nikita's hands brushed over his crotch.

Nikita smiled to herself. She had placed the tracker without Michael feeling it, and now she was simply out to have some fun, but she discovered that Michael had other ideas. She felt his fingers tangle in her hair as he drew her back up on her feet. It was Nikita's turn to tremble as Michael covered her mouth with his and she felt his tongue slip between her lips. She wasn't even aware of his hands unbuttoning her blouse until she felt his fingertips brush over the curve of her breast, revealed by the low cut of her bra.

Michael broke the kiss to trail his lips over Nikita's shoulder. Her skin was as soft as silk and the scent of her filled his nostrils as he pressed kisses to the hollow of her throat, then lower still, to the valley between her breasts. All the while his hands had slipped inside the loose waistband of her pants, to cup the rounded softness of her buttocks. Michael heard Nikita moan, deep in her throat, as his tongue lapped at the curve of her breasts. When he felt her hands tangle in his hair, Michael lifted his head to lock eyes with Nikita. He knew passion shimmered in his, saw the reflection of it in her crystal-blue gaze.

Rayne found herself turning away, her face burning. The heat between Michael and Nikita was intense. She didn't stand a chance and she knew it. But she accepted defeat gracefully.

Madeline smiled at Rayne. Michael had made his choice, and Madeline now made hers. "You'll be transferred Athens," she told Rayne. "You leave in the morning."

"Works for me," Rayne drawled. She sighed, then left the room.

Nikita grinned at Michael. "So...you didn't feel the tracker, did you?" she queried. She was quite proud of herself as she reached out to remove the tracker from behind Michael's ear. It seemed logical to place it where Rayne had, for Michael wouldn't be expecting that. But Nikita frowned. The tracker wasn't there.

Madeline glided forward then, to step in front of Michael. She reached out and slid one finger between the valley of Nikita's breast. It was done quickly and a moment later she held up her hand. The tracker was on the tip of her finger. She turned to smile at Michael. "Well done."

He smiled back at her, then faced Nikita. The look on her face was priceless. Michael moved to turn away from her but she grabbed his arm. "Yes?" he asked softly.

"How?" Nikita demanded. She was too stunned to form a complete sentence.

"You were....distracted," Michael whispered. He avoided the heat of her gaze by dropping his head and focusing on his hands as he attempted to rebutton his shirt.

Nikita couldn't deny his words. "You're good," she acknowledged. From the corner of her eye she watched Madeline glide out of the room. As soon as the other woman was gone, she felt bold enough to speak freely. "Can I ask you a question, Michael?"

He nodded. "Ask."

"Do you want me?" Nikita was tired of dancing around the issue. It was time to lay the cards out on the table. Her eyes locked with Michael's as his head shot up.

There was a long moment of silence. Michael let his eyes do a slow perusal of Nikita, from head to toe. When his gaze returned to hers, he smiled. "Yes," he whispered.

Nikita was stunned when Michael suddenly grabbed her by the shoulders and turned her so that her back was up against the wall. Then his hard body was pressed, full-length, to hers. His hands lifted to cup her face, then his lips molded to hers. The kiss was tender, then deepend till their breath mingled as his tongue teased hers and tasted her liquid sweetness. But even as Nikita lifted her hands, to tangle her fingers in his hair, Michael was pulling away, breaking all contact between them. Nikita stared at him, hearing her own ragged breath. "Michael...." she whispered, her eyes on his face. Lifting from his sensual mouth to meet his burning gaze. "What?" she asked.

"Goodnight, Nikita," he murmmured. Then he turned and glided out of the room. Now was not the time for them to be together, and Madeline's office was not the place. But Michael knew that if he stayed, he would make love to Nikita, Section be damned. So he retreated.

"I hate you..." Nikita hissed, even though she understood why Michael had left. She had forgotten where she was for a moment. But even though she was frustrated, a part of her was elated. She no longer had any doubts about Michael's desire for her. It didn't mean he loved her. But it was a start. And Nikita was willing to be patient. If Michael could ignite white-fire within her with a simple kiss, it would be worth the wait for the spontaneous combustion that would ignite both their bodies....and their souls...on the night they finally made love. And Nikita was determined....that night would come. Soon. Smiling to herself, Nikita left the office.

He grimaced. "I'm not so sure we should allow this...relationship....to continue," he declared.

"You can't stop what's between them," Madeline said softly. She went to him and pressed a kiss to his cheek. "You know that...better than anyone." With those parting words, Madeline left the room.

"Indeed, I do," Operations drawled. He dropped into his chair with a sigh. But a moment later a smile curved his lips as memories of another time, but not another place, filled his mind. A lovely woman with auburn hair, brown eyes, and soft lips. Operations could still remember the sweetness of her kiss.

THE END

written by Shelly